I Could Have Lived Without This
by Laerkstrein
Summary: She hated him for dragging her into this. Even if they had won the war, she wanted nothing to do with them. Post-Winter War.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach_, _or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

**I Could Have Lived Without This**

**A/N: **Post-Winter War.

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><p>The moment he'd shown up at her door, she'd been less than pleased, finding it an easy task to fling her exercise equipment at him. It was as if he had dropped right out of the sky to find her, an unwelcome stink bomb to ruin her day. The machine would have made contact, which would have made her feel better, had Shinji not been walking ahead of her designated target. Still, she'd managed to hit someone she couldn't stand, leaving him to hit the floor with blood in his mouth and a curse upon his lips.<p>

When they'd all been assembled, sitting around the man in the warehouse, their visitor had made a proposal that she'd wanted nothing to do with. He'd requested that they all come with him to a celebration that he'd arranged further into town so that they might have a chance to properly catch up with old friends and comrades.

She'd pitched a fit, demanding that he get his ass out of her sight if he wanted to keep it. Shinji, however, had agreed to the invitation, probably to spite her for smacking him in the face. He was a perfect asshat.

The moment they'd arrived, Hiyori had darted up the nearest tree, perfectly content with staying there until the godawful thing was done with. But being so high above the ground, she could easily list and name the faces that she hadn't seen in years. Amazingly, that fool Kyoraku was still a captain, and the young girl whom Lisa had once tutored had grown up to take the name of lieutenant for his division. However, after seeing the woman whack him over the head with a fold-up chair, Hiyori had reason to believe that their relationship wasn't quite so professional.

"Hiyori."

She looked down, scowling as Shinji held a plate up to her. Her first thought was to kick the thing out of his hand, but she snatched it away, realizing that she really was hungry. Now, had she eaten a proper breakfast that morning, perhaps she would have smeared the food across the front of his shirt. But, seeing how Kensei had damned his ability to properly make pancakes, she was stuck eating whatever the idiot had brought for her.

The fork was swiftly jammed into the noodles that were threatening to slip off her plate, the tang racing across her tongue as she swallowed. It didn't matter who had made them or for what reason. The fact was that the maker of this dish had far more prowess in the kitchen than that stupid punk ever could.

"You feelin' okay?" Shinji quipped, looking up at her from his seat on the ground. "You're usually a real bitch."

The plastic was hanging out of her mouth as she stared down at him. If he had seated himself a little further to the right, then she'd have been able to hop right down onto his face. Lousy bastard deserved it, calling her a bitch. But he wasn't exactly wrong. She had a tempter, a vulgar mouth, and couldn't stand the stupidity of her comrades. Still, she was feeling a little less hostile today, having thought that, maybe, she'd have a chance to see her old captain again. But that had just been a pipe dream. The woman had long-since been transferred, and Hiyori had little reason to believe that she'd come to the living world for anything.

Not even to see her.

"Oh, Hiyori!" Kisuke might as well have been skipping through the grass, the look on his face making him look even stupider than usual. "I have a surprise for you!"

She stood on the branch, swinging her leg and sending a shoe flying towards him like a rocket. But he sidestepped it, sending the object into the brush several yards away. Well, he was coming to talk to her anyway, so she'd likely have a chance to try again. He wasn't all that smart.

"Go away," she growled, turning her back on him. "I don't wanna see _your _ugly face, asshole!"

"Still a vulgar little boy, I see."

Hiyori's eyes widened, looking to Kisuke before following his hand. She looked down, snarling angrily as she dropped out of the tree. "The hell are you doing here, freak?" She pointed an incriminating middle finger at Mayuri. "And who the fuck are you calling a boy? We've been over this, you know! Don't make me bring the girls out here to kick your ass!" She turned on the blond. "That's no surprise, asshat! The hell makes you think I'd want to see him?"

As if seeing Kisuke weren't bad enough. Now she had to deal with the snarky smartass who'd lorded himself over her after the creation of the department. She had a good mind to kick him, and Kisuke, right in the crotch. Just for good measure. That would teach

"No!" Shinji shouted, grabbing the screaming girl from behind, pinning her arms so as to keep her from publicly exposing herself. "We don't need to see Bertha and Antoinette!"

"Who the hell said you could name them, dickhead? They're my boobs!"

Mayuri grimaced, waving her away. "You're much more irritating than I remember." He looked to their former captain. "Brilliant idea, bringing her here, Kisuke."

The man laughed, watching as Shinji carried his attacker away. "Well, it's nice to see things haven't changed."

"You're the only one who can say that and sound pleased. Idiot."


End file.
